Chapter 4

Ashleigh scanned over what she’d written, a smile playing about her lips. Slate had often teased her that she wrote romances the way some women devoured them, but she’d always loved to get lost in the characters she’d created. Her career had taken off since she’d left Brooklyn and moved in with Slate, and she’d told him it was because she now had a man of her own to live out her fantasies. It wasn’t completely out of left field. Their passion-fueled nights were nothing like any past relationship she’d ever had. Slate was also more honorable than any of her ex-boyfriends, the type of man who took loyalty and duty seriously. Her cheating ex had never been a good match for her anyway, and Slate’s busy career gave her plenty of quiet time alone at home to write and plot more storylines.

She pressed her lips together, pleased with herself as she read over the story arc where the main characters were unexpectedly thrown together. Funny that she’d met Slate in a similar way, but sometimes, life imitated art…

Her phone buzzed just then, and she glanced down to see a text from her bestie.

Anna: What do you think of the cabin? I told your honey that the house needed to look like Christmas orgasmed inside of it.

Ashleigh bit her lip, trying not to laugh. Only Anna. Slate hardly knew what to make of her. The women had been roommates in college, and despite their different personalities, their friendship had blossomed, and they’d remained best friends. There was a certain sense of irony that they’d ended up married/engaged to brothers. As much as Jett was the wildcard in the family, Slate had loosened up some around her. He was still intense, devoted to his Navy career, but he also smiled more. Laughed. As he’d told her more than once, he now had her to focus on, not just the Navy or men he commanded.

Ashleigh: The cabin looks incredible. And the stockings???

Anna: Never too soon to start wedding planning, hun.

Ashleigh: All part of the plan during Slate’s time off.

Anna: You need to try on some wedding gowns in Seattle. I won’t take no for an answer.

Ashleigh shook her head, smiling. She had planned to duck into one of the little boutiques in the city while she and Slate did some shopping and sight-seeing. They’d talked more of narrowing down a date, but it just hadn’t happened yet. While they’d be exploring Seattle, visiting some of the places her sister had recommended, she’d have to insist that Slate do something else while she tried on wedding gowns. When they did finally tie the knot, Ashleigh wanted to completely wow him.

Ashleigh: I’m totally on board with that. Talk soon.

She got back to work, listening to Slate’s low voice in the kitchen. Try as he might, she knew he couldn’t stay away from Navy business or important calls. His dedication to his career was just one of the things she loved about him. Slate stayed apprised on current intelligence, tracking multiple situations around the globe. While he could never give her details on the operations he ran while stateside, she could hazard a guess about some of them based on the news. The world could be an evil place, filled with terrorists and others intent on doing harm to the U.S. and their allies.

Slate took his job and service to his country seriously. She’d noted before that he focused on facts while she simply made-up stories, but their differences were part of what made them complement one another. She softened him in many ways, Slate’s personality gruff and intense in a way she’d never be. Likewise, she knew Slate would always be her biggest defender and champion. Ashleigh was free to follow her passions, with Slate encouraging her writing and career goals and giving her a safety net to fall back on.

His voice quieted as he walked around the kitchen, and she knew he might be on the call for a while. His big frame moved past the open doorway, Slate looking ruggedly handsome in his flannel shirt and jeans. Even now he managed to look in command and control, despite the fact that he was literally pacing where they’d just eaten, in a remote cabin in the woods, not in some command center on base.

Glancing at the clock, she saw that it was still early. He’d lit a fire in the cozy living room earlier, and between the flames and the twinkling lights on the Christmas tree, the entire place felt warm and magical. She couldn’t help but wonder what presents he’d put under the tree. She had her own surprise for him, but Christmas itself was days away. Sighing softly, she snuggled under the blanket and looked at the story on her laptop. The evening was ripe with possibilities, and she couldn’t wait to spend time alone with Slate later.

***

Slate muttered under his breath, holding his cell phone to his ear.

“You know I’ve made my own fair share of enemies, brother,” Jett said. “Aside from serving in uniform, I run a goddamn black ops team. Men all over the globe would love to end me and my operation.”

“Your home is secure, surrounded by a gated fence. Shadow Security Headquarters is practically a fortress. This cabin has cameras but is in the middle of the goddamn woods. And Seattle?” he added in a low voice, thinking of the wedding venue and hotel. “I want security on us,” he said. “While I can certainly protect what’s mine, I shouldn’t have to.”

He could practically picture Jett smirking on the other end of the line. “Too busy with your future blushing bride?” he questioned.

“Enough. What I do with Ashleigh is my own business.”

Jett cleared his throat. “Ahem. Just remember there are cameras inside the cabin now after I made all the security updates. Turn off the one in the living room unless you want to watch a repeat of the show later.”

Slate cursed again, and he could hear his brother’s laughter. “Anna didn’t mind when we were there a month ago, but she’s not Ashleigh.”

“No, she’s not,” Slate said in irritation. While he appreciated the reminder, he was already wondering if he’d said anything earlier to accidentally embarrass his future wife. While he’d loved holding her naked in his arms in front of the fire last year, he hoped he hadn’t said that out loud in the living room when they’d first walked in earlier.

Goddamn terrorists.

Before they’d tracked Slate here a year ago, they’d had no reason to be at the cabin. Just as Slate was easy enough to find back in California, Jett was easy to locate in New York. He owned the entire company, a security business that secretly housed a black ops team. Both men might have enemies, but Slate wasn’t about to let anything interrupt his time with Ashleigh. If someone thought they’d find him alone with his fiancée, either here or in their hotel room, they’d be in for a surprise.

“I’ll line up additional security,” Jett assured him. “I’ve got some guys out west anyway finishing up an op.”

“New hires?” Slate questioned.

“No. Ford Anderson and Sam Jackson have been with me since the beginning. If we need extra hired hands to ensure your wedding goes off without a hitch, then we’ll do it. I’m flying out there with my own family. We both have a lot to protect, brother.”

“I already texted Lena about changing the hotel for the wedding night. And none of the vendors or wedding venue itself have contracts in my name,” Slate said in a hushed tone, his gaze landing on the kitchen door again. All he needed was for Ashleigh to come in here right now and accidentally overhear everything.

“Affirmative,” Jett said. “Lena and the wedding planner handled all of that. There is nothing tying you to the wedding location. You’ll be safe to proceed with the ceremony, unless of course someone is watching you at the cabin and follows you to Seattle. They found the cabin’s address last year,” he added darkly.

“Damn it all to hell,” Slate muttered. “Let’s hope that mofo who left tracks in the snow all over the damn front porch last time didn’t tell the others where specifically the cabin is. I’ll speak with you soon. I need to make sure the cabin and perimeter are secure.”

“I’ll have West and my IT guys monitor the camera feeds there as well. Remember—turn off the one in the living room.”

Slate muttered a curse and then finished his call. He pulled up the security feed, ensuring all of the cameras around the property were working. He had motion alerts set up, but those would just as likely be triggered by a deer or fox as a ruthless terrorist. There wasn’t necessarily a specific reason someone would track him here again—especially if his hotel reservation in Seattle later this week was posted on the dark web. A hotel he wouldn’t set foot in during this trip now. Slate wouldn’t risk it with Ashleigh at his side.

The idea of someone flying up to Seattle for a second year in a row to find him seemed asinine. Then again, he hadn’t traveled for pleasure since then. The military flights he took weren’t on record for anyone in the public to see. He was away from his home and the men he commanded. Alone, as far as the terrorists knew. The assholes after him had no idea a team of men would be converging in the northwest this week for his surprise wedding.

Slate clenched his phone in his hand, the edges cutting into his skin. It almost felt like there was something he was missing, but he’d covered his bases for now. Aside from leaving the remote cabin, as they’d done last year, there wasn’t a hell of a lot else to do. The homegrown terror cell likely thought he’d be arriving in Seattle in several days for Christmas.

He pulled up another camera feed, ensuring his home back in San Diego was secure. There’d been no unusual alerts, and he was satisfied that it appeared someone was home. The lights had timers, and his neighbors were getting their mail and packages. Maybe he’d have one of his men swing by as a precaution. If he was being watched, there was no need to let anyone know he was gone.

But what if the men after him would be waiting at the hotel he’d originally booked?

Slate shot off a quick text to Jett.

Slate: Can we get eyes on the hotel I was supposed to stay in?

Jett: Good call, brother. Someone might show up there in a few days still expecting you.

Slate: I want to see the faces of whoever’s tracking me.

Jett: Already on it.

No doubt he was. Jett had an entire security operation at his command. A simple word from him would have the IT staff covertly accessing the security feed of the hotel. Slate had to abide by the military’s rules and regulations. Stay on the right side of the law. Fortunately, his brother did things his own way.

Briefly, he wondered if the assholes after him had ever made a connection between the two men. The terror cell last year had made no mention of Jett or Shadow Security, but like Jett had said earlier tonight, he’d made his own enemies. Jett was flying into Seattle on a private plane, however, so it’s not as if his own itinerary was easily accessible. His family wasn’t staying in the same hotel Slate had originally booked, either.

Slate clicked on the various camera feeds at the cabin one last time, in both the front and back, ensuring that everything was as it should be. Damn homegrown terrorists. The men who’d been put behind bars a year ago should’ve been the furthest thing from his mind. He glanced around the kitchen one last time, then finally walked into the living room, his mind slowly shifting from work to the woman stretched out on the sofa in front of the roaring fire.